Part 28 (1/2)
”Something's been bothering me for a few weeks, since the christening ... do you think I offended Diedre when I didn't ask her to be a G.o.dmother to Alicia?”
Hugo exclaimed, ”No, of course not! None of your sisters were asked, so how could she take offense?”
Daphne couldn't help laughing. ”Dulcie's only five years old, so she could hardly be a G.o.dmother.”
Laughing with her, he replied, after a moment, ”I think you made the right choices. Lavinia and Vanessa will do their duty to Alicia, and let's face it, they are grown-ups.”
”Not Lavinia, according to Papa; he's forever announcing she's childish.”
”I know, but he doesn't really mean it ... not actually. You're worrying about Diedre because she's been away for weeks, but it was that kind of trip, you know. Paris, Rome, Berlin, Vienna. The whole works. The Grand Tour. Anyway, if it still bothers you when you have your next baby, you can ask her then.”
Daphne nodded. ”Yes, how right you are, and you always manage to make me feel better, Hugo.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. ”And you were right to ask Guy and your cousin Mark to be her G.o.dfathers.”
Hanson was decanting a bottle of red wine in the little pantry next to the dining room, when Gordon Lane suddenly appeared at his side.
”Excuse me, Hanson, but could I have a quick word with you, please?”
”Can't we speak later, Lane? As you can see, I am decanting a very good bottle of Pommerol.”
”I know, and I'm sorry, but there's never a chance to ask a question. You're so busy, Mr. Hanson. It won't take but a second. It's important.”
Hanson, conscious of the serious tone in the footman's voice, turned around. ”Very well then. What is it?”
”As you know, Peggy Swift and I are engaged, and we'd like to get married soon, Mr. Hanson. In August, if that's all right with you?”
Hanson nodded. ”You're asking for a day off, I presume?”
”Yes, for the two of us, Mr. Hanson. Do I have to go to Mrs. Thwaites to ask about Peggy's day off?”
”No, no, that won't be necessary, Lane. Why don't you take the first Sat.u.r.day in August, and I'll have a word with Mrs. Thwaites later. You and Swift worked very well this weekend, and I was particularly pleased with the way you looked after Mr. and Mrs. Handelsman. Will you be marrying in the village church?”
”I expect so, Mr. Hanson, and thank you very much. It'll make Peggy happy, knowing we can now set a date.”
”Congratulations,” Hanson said, and turned back to the funnel he was using to pour the wine into the decanter.
Dulcie hummed to herself as she went through the conservatory and down the little hill, heading for the bluebell woods. She had been longing to pick bluebells for Alicia all day, but had not found the opportunity until now. When Nanny was preparing the bath for her and putting out her nightclothes she was usually preoccupied, and Dulcie seized the moment.
It was only six-thirty and still light. The child strode into the woods determinedly, her eyes darting from side to side, until she saw a patch of the flowers, and ran toward them, a happy smile on her face. She bent down and began to pick the bluebells, and then suddenly stopped. Next to her hand was a big black shoe.
Glancing up, Dulcie saw a man standing there, staring down at her. She had never seen him before. As she straightened up, he said, ”Why, if it isn't little Dulcie.”
”Lady Dulcie,” she said. ”And who are you?”
”I'm the Bluebell Man,” he answered, and grinned at her.
Dulcie frowned. ”I've never heard of you. And this is my father's land.”
”I know. And he's the one who appointed me the Bluebell Man, Lady Dulcie.” He stared at the flowers in her hand. ”That's not a nice enough bunch. Come with me. I can take you to the best patch in the wood.”
Dulcie hesitated. She was not afraid of the man but she was wary all of a sudden. Before she could step back, he s.n.a.t.c.hed her hand in his, and said, ”Let's hurry. We must get the best before it gets too dark to see.”
”I think I have enough,” Dulcie exclaimed, and tried to break free of him, but he held her hand tightly in his. She tugged; he wouldn't let go.
The man was about to walk off with her when he heard the sound of a gun being c.o.c.ked. He let go of Dulcie's hand and ran. He rushed forward, cras.h.i.+ng through the bushes, disappearing into the woods.
A moment later Dulcie was looking up at Percy Swann, the head gamekeeper, who was standing there with a rifle in his hands.
She smiled at him. ”h.e.l.lo, Mr. Percy. I didn't like that man. He wanted to take me to another bluebell patch. But I wouldn't go.”
”You did the right thing, Lady Dulcie. Come along, I'll take you home.” He bent down, picked her up in his arms, and carried her back to the house, holding the rifle in one hand.
It didn't take him long to get to the conservatory. The hue and cry had already started, and he saw the enormous relief flooding the earl's worried face as he put Dulcie down on the ground.
She ran toward her father, exclaiming, ”I went to pick bluebells for Alicia, Papa, and Mr. Percy came and sent the funny man away. And then he carried me home.” She smiled at Percy and said, ”Thank you.”
Felicity was as white as chalk, also worried. She came forward and took hold of Dulcie's hand. Looking at Percy, her red-rimmed eyes full of grat.i.tude, she said, ”My thanks, Mr. Swann. It's a good thing you were down there.” She hurried away with Dulcie, who was still clutching the bluebells. The weeping nanny trailed after them, unable to quell her tears.
Pulling himself together, Lord Mowbray said, ”What exactly happened, Percy?”
”I always patrol the area near the bluebell woods while it's still light. I've been doing so since last year, when there were rumors of poachers. I was walking up from the lake when I spotted Lady Dulcie going into the woods by herself. I ran h.e.l.l for leather, m'lord. As I went into the bluebell woods I saw a man holding Lady Dulcie's hand, about to lead her away. I surprised him. I c.o.c.ked the trigger, and he heard it, as I knew he would. He took off, ran into the woods. I lifted her up and brought her home.”
”Did you recognize the man?”
”I didn't, your lords.h.i.+p. He had muttonchop whiskers and was wearing a flat cap, so it was impossible to see much of his face. He was badly dressed. Tallish though, a man with long legs and long arms.”
”Disguised perhaps?” Charles asked.
”Maybe, m'lord. I think it would've been hard for anyone to identify him. Muttonchop whiskers cover most of the face.” Percy Swann shook his head. ”I suppose I could have run after him, but I wouldn't have caught him, and I thought it was better to get Lady Dulcie home.”
”You did the right thing. Miss Charlotte insists the bluebell woods in particular are watched by your outdoors team. Why do you think that is, Swann?”
”Because they are quite dense in parts and also they're at the end of our property on that side of Cavendon land. Once the woods end there's that dirt road that separates our land from the Havers land, and the land belonging to Lord Judson.”
Charles said, ”We need a barbed-wire fence, don't we?”
”I think we should build a very high wall, if you don't mind me saying so, Lord Mowbray. With barbed wire along the top.”
”That would block entry to the woods from the road. What about the rest of the property?”
”We should build more walls where there are gaps, which is where they are needed.”
”Parts of Cavendon on the perimeters have always been open, but times have changed. I think we'd better make our lands safer than they are. I'll talk to the estate manager tomorrow. He can make the plans and carry them forward. And thank you, Swann, I dread to think what might have happened to Lady Dulcie if you hadn't been around.”
”It's a good thing I was on my rounds, m'lord. Well, I'll say good night.”